


Self-Evaluation

by DictionaryWrites



Series: Chas and John [2]
Category: Constantine (TV)
Genre: Dom/sub Undertones, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-24
Updated: 2015-01-24
Packaged: 2018-03-08 21:13:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3223646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DictionaryWrites/pseuds/DictionaryWrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set right after 1x10.</p><p>Chas and Zed discuss the nature of Chas and <i>John</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Self-Evaluation

 “So.” Zed says, and Chas looks up from his book, raising his eyebrows as he looks at her expectantly. She's smirking slightly, but he can see a line of some _tension_ in her face, because she's not had a chance to talk to him about this since they'd caught back Geraldine's soul in New York, and now she has a lot of extra _context_ to add to his and John's relationship.

“So?” Chas repeats, and Zed slides into the other arm chair, one leg hooked over its arm as she leans against the other; as usual, a sketchbook rests in her lap, but for the time being her pencil merely taps against its cover rather than scribbling over the pages within.

“You and John.”

“Me and John.”

“How long's it been going on for?” Chas lets out a sort of rueful snort, considering how many times he's had John in the past two weeks, in his bedroom, in John's, against walls, in the taxi, in _alleyways_.

“The first time was just after Renée-” No. No, that's unfair. “Just after we broke up officially. We hadn't divorced yet, but I wasn't living there any more, and it was over.” It hurts to think about. Not because John had come onto him – he hadn't. John had never dared, before he and Renée had parted.

Chas is fairly certain Renée is one of the few people in this damned universe John actually harbours fear of.

“I was drunk, and angry, and upset. I grabbed him by the hair and kissed him hard – had to lift him up to do it, because he's not very tall.”

“We must all look like _ants_ to you.” Zed inputs sardonically, and Chas' sarcastic smile makes her laugh.

“That was a year ago.” No. It wasn't. “A year and a half ago.” God. “After that, he considered me fair game. Every now and then, he gets himself worked up, throws himself at me. The past few weeks is the first time it's been regular.”

He's glad that his ex-wife had been too concerned with Geraldine to notice the scent on his skin, or the way that John's gaze lingered on him. It hadn't affected Chas' _decisions_ , after all. John is a good fuck, and John is Chas' friend, but it was John that destroyed his family in the first place, and John still comes _after_ Renée and Geraldine: it's as simple as that.

Zed is watching him, and there's a short pause before she says, “I wasn't sure. Renée still felt deep concern for you, but it wasn't romantic.” That stings. Even if John'd never tried to get Chas to _cheat_ , it had still been John that had gotten between them, John and his mad way of magus life.

John Constantine, intoxicating as anything, and doesn't it show? Not just in Chas, but in everyone who's ever met the man.

“No, it wouldn't be, now.” He should give her some sort of advice, not to let John _charm_ her, but it's too late for that, and he's too angry anyway now to think about John's flaws, and John's danger, and how John fucks up every single life he stumbles into. It affects Chas with a particular kind of hidden terror that his baby girl trusts her Uncle John. “It's not romantic between me and John. You get that?”

“I got that he isn't the romantic _type._ ” Zed replies, and Chas nods his head, closing his book and setting it aside.

“Yeah. He's not.” He's silent for a moment or two, contemplative, and then he asks, “Do you trust him?”

“Sometimes.” Zed says. “I trust that I'm safe here.”

“That's not trusting John.” Chas points out, not unkindly; a sort of relief rushes through him to know that Zed isn't _blind._ “That's trusting the mill.”

“Like I said, Chas. _Sometimes._ ”

The door at the top of the stairs comes open with a loud sound, and John begins to make his way down the stairs with his coat loose and his shirt half-unbuttoned as if it isn't snowing outside, with a box from a butcher's under one arm and several sketchbooks for Zed in the other.

“Oi oi.” John says by way of (really English) greeting, and Zed puts out her hands to take the sketchbooks from him, raising an eyebrow at the Crayola set along with them.

“I'm kinda old for crayons, John.”

“They were on a buy thing, get cheapest shit-” John shakes his head and waves his hand. “I dunno, but they were 99p, so that's that.”

“99 cents, John.” Chas says, and John sticks his tongue out at him. It makes Chas angrier than it should, because it's just John acting like a child, like John always does, but Chas feels like throwing him against a wall and fucking him until he screams for a rest. John must notice something harden in his face, because his tongue comes out, flickers over the edge of lower lip. “Did you get a gift for me, or just for Zed?”

“I got lamb chops for you, love.” John says with a wink. “Under the several packets of lamb's _blood_.” He proffers the box, and Chas takes it, setting it down on the table in a very deliberate fashion. “Butcher thought I was doolally.” John says, but the words come out distracted, because his gaze is focused on the broadness of Chas' hands, and he shifts on his feet, leaning towards the taller man.

“Chas-” John says, because recently he's been utterly _insatiable_ , and Chas knows full well it has to do with how Chas has been _commanding_ recently, taking control and fucking John however he feels like rather than letting the smaller man make his demands and have them fulfilled.

There is nothing John Constantine likes more than getting his way, and for some reason Chas assiduously doing it _his own_ way is driving the man so eager he's ready to fuck in the taxi midway through jobs.

“John.” Chas returns, and Constantine lets out a sort of _tschook_ with his tongue, walking past Chas and putting his hand on the other's shoulder, only to drag his fingers over the flannel-clad flesh in an attempt to woo Chas into following him. “Wait, John.” Chas says.

John turns around with a disguised yearning on his face, but Chas just grasps at the box and passes it into the other man's arms. “Unpack that and put the chops in the fridge.” John's lips twist into a sort of _moue_ , and Chas inwardly feels _triumph._

He's angry, yes, there's absolute fury bubbling under his skin bred from pure frustration, but he'll actually let it out later, when he has John bouncing on his cock and he hasn't let the man come even after forty minutes of teasing. Denying John _now_ will only make him more likely to cry later, and something about that floods Chas with a sort of animalistic, primal pleasure.

“Right.” John says in a clipped tone, as if he'd just forgotten the box, and Zed looks between the two of them as John moves into the kitchen to unpack his blood and Chas' meat, expression betraying some inward calculation that Chas feels too guilty to ask about.

He takes advantage of John, and John takes advantage of him: he's certain it isn't a healthy relationship, because he's _been_ in healthy relationships, though John likely hasn't himself. Chas feels another bloom of guilt, but it's worth it to consider the stretch of John's neck, the way his body will go tight and drawn, the way his _ass_ will clench around Chas later tonight.

John has _ruined_ Chas, in more ways than one, and while Chas wouldn't hurt him – not permanently, anyway – he's going to fuck him like John's never been fucked before. 

 


End file.
